“This whole thing,” whispered Lou to Tina, “sounds to me like two pages out of the Ladies’ Home Journal.”
Father’s footsteps were heard in the hall.
“Anybody married yet?” he asked. “Hello, Fanny. Is your Pa dead?” He read the answers in their faces, groaned audibly and left the room.
IV
It was a fine bright day in the latter part of the last chapter. May Brewer and Stephen, her husband, were busy in the kitchen. She washed the dishes at the sink. He dried them.
“Well,” said she, “it’s about finished.”
“Yes,” he replied, “Esme’s dead. Vicky’s working her head off at Napa to keep the wolf from their door. Tina’s married to a poor preacher and has three step-children beside her own brood. Lou married that old fellow in Buenos Aires. Bertie’s thoroughly unhappy with his wife. Lucy’s left Harry and he’s living on George. Nelly’s husband is a drunkard. Alice’s beats her. Bob’s wife’s dead. The family business is bankrupt, and I’ve got nothing to do but wash dishes in this mortgaged house and live on remittances from Lou’s husband. It’s been a great life.”
“There are compensations, dear,” said May.
“Yes, to be sure,” admitted Stephen. “Your Pa’s dead. That helps some.”